


open end

by lumielle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Attempt at Humor, Blow Jobs, Copious amounts of kissing, Frottage, Hand Jobs, If You Squint - Freeform, Love Confessions, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, if you want it to be, oikawa is emotional
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 11:11:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumielle/pseuds/lumielle
Summary: “You know I don’t like wine,” Iwaizumi says.“And still,” Tooru replies, watching Iwaizumi take a big sip.“And still,” Iwaizumi agrees.Their last night as roommates, Oikawa and Iwaizumi cross a line they’ve been treading way too long.





	open end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [daivinchi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/daivinchi/gifts).



> hello again! this is my last minute gift for tumblr user tenyu for the iwaoi nsfw exchange! i tried making it as soft and sweet as i could, and i hope you like it, snickers! i had a blast writing it <3 also, i do think the end isn't all that open, but it's up to the reader to decide :>

 

The end of college brings change, inevitably. It brings an end to the life Tooru knew before, spent between dashing to class and finishing up last minute lab reports and cleaning up after his best friend in their crummy little apartment. It brings uncertainty and excitement alike.

It’s as much opening up doors as it is closing them. He knew this before, but he really understands the last night before the move.

It’s been a weird day. The apartment is full of moving boxes. The only food left is some microwaveables and bread and cheese and some drinks, everything else they’ve used up or already packed. It’s weird, because it doesn’t feel like a home anymore, because it already isn’t. With the bare floors and the plain white walls the place almost looks like it was never lived in. Maybe that’s what really drives it home. It’s just a couple more hours until the end.

The end. It sounds weird in Tooru’s mind. He can’t quite picture it.

He and Iwaizumi have lived here for four years, all through college, and he’s gotten so used to having him around all the time that it’s going to take him a while to get accustomed to not having him wait for him when gets home from class or work. It’s always been the two of them, a package deal, two parts of a whole, functioning on their own but better together. Tooru never imagined them not being together, being Tooru and Hajime instead of Tooru-and-Hajime-the-Inseparable. And yet, here they are, ready to go and see the world, or at least, a new part of it. A new part that doesn’t involve each other in the same way it used to.

There isn’t any second-guessing. Tooru expected there to be, but it didn’t come. He’s sure about this. It’s the right thing to do. It’s what all those sixteen years of schooling led up to, and he’s not letting it go to waste. Taking up his first real job is a good thing, and he’s looking forward to it. Leaving Iwaizumi behind, that’s the part he’s dreading, but he hasn’t let himself think about it much. All that’s going to do is make him miserable, and then Iwaizumi is going to get pissed and _then_ he might even be glad to see it all come to a close.

No. They’re going to end it on a good note. Whatever form that end may take.

 

ღ

 

Iwaizumi comes home that evening carrying a six pack of cheap beer and a pretty white box with curly pink print on it.

“Iwa-chan, in here,” Tooru calls from the living room, where he’s lounging on the couch watching bad Thursday night TV. He’ll have to pack that up before bed, too.

Iwaizumi comes in and drops down next to Tooru, picking up his legs to drape over his own. He’s already got an open can in hand, offering a second one to Tooru.

“You know I don’t like beer,” Tooru says, but he takes it anyway, downing a big gulp.

“And you still drink it because you hate feeling left out.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan.” Tooru kicks Iwaizumi’s leg, and Iwaizumi offers a little smile before knocking back some of his beer.

“So. What’s in the box?” Tooru asks, even though he’s got a good idea. Iwaizumi may be kind-hearted and smart and attentive, but he’s not creative.

Iwaizumi shrugs, and that little bounce of the shoulder is enough for Tooru to know. “It’s milk bread. For you. Since they probably don’t have that kind down there in Kagoshima.”

Iwaizumi isn’t meeting Tooru’s eyes, but Tooru can tell he’s embarrassed. He’s always teasing him about his obsession for all things sweet, but he’s the one treating him to it most often. Tooru smooths out a wrinkle in his shirt, glad for the cool of the can in his hand. He’s getting all warm inside.

“Thank you,” he says. And he means it.

 

They sit in silence for a while, staring idly at the nonsense on screen, and it’s not awkward per se, but Tooru feels the need to make meaningful conversation somehow, like this is his last chance to be with Iwaizumi in this familiar, easy way. After the move, it’ll be different. They’ll still be best friends and they’ll still be close, but they’ll be heading their separate ways for the first time. Iwaizumi secured a part time teaching job at a middle school a few miles out of town and Tooru is going to head on down to Kagoshima to join a research lab for marine biology. It’s going to be an exciting few months as they get used to their new lives. It’s going to be exciting, but not easy.

“Stop that,” Iwaizumi says, lightly smacking Tooru’s thigh.

“What?”

“You’re overthinking again.” A pause. A long one. Then, “Nothing’s going to change between us. You’ll always be my number one, Oikawa.”

Tooru’s heart leaps at that. He’s always known, in a way. How couldn’t he, with Iwaizumi having been his number one for as long as he cares to remember? But it’s different hearing it said out loud. It makes it real. Still, he can’t help protesting.

“How can you be so sure? Of course things are going to change. _People_ change. Constantly. What if Iwa-chan suddenly realizes he can’t be without me? Now that would put me in an awkward spot, wouldn’t it?”

“Oh, you’re so full of it,” Iwaizumi laughs. “We’ll be fine,” he adds as an afterthought, green eyes lingering on Tooru’s own. It’s almost as if he were tapping into Tooru’s mind, as if he knew there was more to it. And there is. Tooru can tell Iwaizumi knows it, too.

“Remember how you told me I’ll probably never be satisfied? Never entirely happy? What if it’s true?” Tooru passes his half empty can of beer from one hand to the other and back, listening to the liquid sloshing around inside. Iwaizumi gives him a strange look, like maybe he’s regretting his own words. How unlike him.

“I can’t believe you still remember that. It’s been what, four years? I didn’t mean it in a bad way, dummy. You’re naturally ambitious, so there’s always gonna be something you’ll be chasing after. That’s a good thing. Gives a life purpose, I guess.”

Purpose. That’s probably true. Tooru offers up a little smile of his own.

“You’re so thoughtful after a couple of beers,” he quips, even though Iwaizumi has just barely finished his first.

Iwaizumi jostles him around some, partly in retaliation, partly to reposition himself. Tooru pulls himself into a sitting position to give him room, and they end up leaning against each other, eyes back on the TV. There’s a sports anime on now, and it’s interesting enough to make the renewed silence comfortable. This is probably the last time they’ll sit together like this, and the thought gives Tooru a pang of preemptive nostalgia. He’s going to miss this. He’s going to miss Iwaizumi.

Quietly, he snuggles closer, resting his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

This close, he can smell his aftershave, mixed with that light tang of beer, and he breathes in deeply, hoping he’s being discreet enough to not warrant any comments. He decided long ago that his lingering, stubbornly simmering attraction to his best friend was a matter best kept private. Tooru isn’t stupid; he knows Iwaizumi could deal with it, he’d let him down easy, but he isn’t sure if _he_ could deal with the fallout. There are possibilities he missed out on, maybe, but the friendship they’ve had all these years matters more to him than anything. It’s not worth the risk of messing it up at a pivotal moment like this.

They kill the six pack, and Tooru brings out their last bottle of wine. It’s only half full anyway.

“You know I don’t like wine,” Iwaizumi says.

“And still,” Tooru replies, watching Iwaizumi take a big sip.

“And still,” Iwaizumi agrees.

 

ღ

 

It’s a quiet last evening. It’s not as bad now, though, with the alcohol making Tooru feel wonderfully warm and just the littlest bit sleepy. He never gets properly drunk off beer, but maybe the wine made him a bit tipsy. Iwaizumi makes a great pillow, and the anime they were watching earlier is coincidentally doing a full run of the first season, which they find themselves following with unironic interest.

It’s when the protagonist of the series delivers a heartfelt speech about chasing his dreams and making the best of every card he’s been dealt, that Iwaizumi gives a sigh. It’s quiet, but Tooru hears.

“What,” he begins, “you feeling sentimental?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, gently moving Tooru with it. His arm slips off the backrest and around Tooru’s shoulder. Tooru stiffens, but Iwaizumi doesn’t seem to notice. “Don’t you ever regret not doing something?”

Tooru blinks at him. “Not really? Do you?”

Iwaizumi takes a moment to reply. “Maybe I should’ve dated more during college, you know. Gotten some experience. It always felt like there could’ve been something there.”

“What do you mean, more? I don’t recall you dating anyone ever.” Tooru’s tone is playful, but for a moment Iwaizumi caught him really off guard there. Out of all the things, this is not what he would have expected. Iwaizumi never showed a lot of interest in dating or relationships. It’s always been just the two of them in their own little circle of friends, even with their majors being as different from one another as they come.

“I did see a couple of people for a bit, but you would know that if you’d bothered to listen when I tried to tell you about it.”

Maybe Tooru intentionally forgot about that, but Iwaizumi doesn’t need to know. He’s still acutely aware of Iwaizumi’s arm around him, but he likes it. A lot.

“So?” he prompts.

“Dunno. I guess I was missing out.”

Tooru smiles a mischievous smile at him. “Is this your way of saying you’re sexually frustrated?”

Iwaizumi pinches him. “I swear to everything that is holy--”

Despite the sting, Tooru laughs, pushing at his friend who is trying to shove him off the couch. “Iwa-chan, you’re so sweet and innocent!”

“I’ll show you innocent,” Iwaizumi threatens, grabbing at one of Tooru’s arms and pinning it in place. Tooru gives him a defiant kick to the side, and they share a moment of heated eye contact before they start wrestling on the couch.

Between screeching in pain and laughing at the same time, a bittersweet feeling overcomes Tooru. They’ve done this so many times, the exact same way, on this couch. It’s almost like this is just another of those countless nights that’ll leave them passed out on the couch, half on top of one another but too comfortable to move. Like they’ll wake up and go to class again, even though their theses got marked a couple of weeks ago. It’s like they’ll always have this, and part of Tooru wishes he could stop the time just for tonight, so he’d get to bask in it for a little while longer.

Breathlessly, they collapse a couple of minutes in, Iwaizumi spread-eagled on his back, Tooru on top of him, palms splayed against his heaving chest.

“So you’re sexually frustrated,” Tooru giggles. “Or could it be that you wish you’d made more memories?”

“Both sound terrible coming from your mouth, but if I have to choose, then memories I guess,” Iwaizumi mutters.

“Aww, Iwa-chan, I always knew you were a closet romantic.”

Iwaizumi grunts, looking away. “Shut up.”

One of his hands drops to Tooru’s back, lying there warm and heavy, trapping the words right in Tooru’s throat. The alcohol in his system dulls the throb of his heart to his own ears, but he’s not so sure about Iwaizumi. He can probably feel it thrashing against his ribcage. Tooru’s face is hot, and he hopes that he isn’t as flushed as he feels.

“Maybe I am a bit of a romantic,” Iwaizumi concedes, voice husky and low. “But what’s it to you?”

“Oh, you know,” Tooru says, heart pounding, “I like that about you.”

Iwaizumi tenses under him, the hand on his back curling into the fabric of his cardigan. “You really gotta stop flirting with me if you ever want to keep a girlfriend,” he says, and Tooru knows it’s supposed to be funny, but it is apparent that it isn’t to either of them. Tooru swallows heavily. Where is this conversation leading? They’ve had quite a few heart-to-hearts over the course of their friendship, but this doesn’t feel the same at all. Neither of them might even remember, because alcohol can have that effect sometimes, and they’ll be parting come morning. But maybe that’s part of what makes Tooru say it.

“What if I don’t want to?”

Iwaizumi’s eyes go wide for a moment. “You’re drunk, Oikawa.”

“Not as much as you think. Weren’t you the one saying you had regrets? Maybe…”

Iwaizumi cuts him off. “Don’t…” Don’t make it complicated.

Their faces are only centimeters apart. Tooru can see the fine lines of Iwaizumi’s eyes, the curve of his lips, the fan of his dark eyelashes. He can feel his breath on his lips, and he’s getting drunk off the feeling all over again.

“Maybe I do have some regrets of my own. We all do, right? Iwa-chan does,” Tooru finishes. At this point he’s maybe rambling a little. He needs to stop, but the words keep coming. “We shouldn’t take those regrets with us, Iwa-chan. For a fresh start.”

An unreadable expression passes over Iwaizumi’s face. His eyes fixate on Tooru’s mouth for a second too long, and it sends a flutter of restlessness through his stomach. It must be the alcohol. There’s no way this would be happening otherwise.

Tentatively, Tooru touches the tip of his finger to Iwaizumi’s cheek. It’s rough beneath his finger, a little stubbly from the poor shaving job he did that morning.

“How about we commemorate our last night as roommates?”

The laugh Iwaizumi offers carries no mirth. “It’s like you’re saying goodbye.”

“Well, aren’t we both?”

Iwaizumi gently brushes a strand of hair out of Tooru’s face. “Yeah. But it’s still a stupid idea.” It. They’re not even specifying what “it” is, but they don’t have to. It’s there, between the lines.

Tooru feels his lips pull into a lopsided smile. His body’s all heavy and relaxed and the hand Iwaizumi’s been resting on his back finds its way up to cup the back of his head, fingers threaded through his tousled hair. It feels so nice Tooru doesn’t dare to move.

“If it’s so stupid, then why are you still playing along?”

Iwaizumi’s thumb brushes Tooru’s bottom lip, sending electric sparks flying between them. “Because sometimes you make me stupid, too.”

Tooru means to keep teasing, but there’s this moment, right after Iwaizumi finishes talking, where Tooru’s tongue ties itself into knots, right along with his stomach. Iwaizumi’s eyes won’t leave his, half-lidded and alluring. Inviting.

He swallows. “Iwa-chan, can I…?”

Iwaizumi’s answer never comes. He tips his head up and pulls Tooru down at the same time, and their lips brush together in a gentle kiss. _Oh_. Tooru’s heart stops and then jumpstarts into a frenzied staccato. His eyes fly shut as Iwaizumi leans up again and they meet in the middle.

Iwaizumi’s lips are soft and slow in their movement. At first there isn’t much of it, just gentle, careful pressure, but when Tooru reciprocates he lets it happen, matching Tooru’s pace so perfectly he could have fooled him, made him believe they’d done this before. Tooru sighs and presses himself close, fingers clenched into Iwaizumi’s shirt. He’s floating on a cloud of drowsy euphoria — _Iwaizumi is kissing him_.

He gently teases Tooru’s lips open, eliciting a quiet gasp, and their tongues slide together, warm and wet. Tooru never would have thought he’d ever get to kiss his best friend like this, so intimately, wrapped around each other on their old couch in their shitty little apartment.

“Mm, Tooru, this is so stupid,” Iwaizumi says against his lips, shifting beneath him, opening his legs just wide enough for Tooru to slide one of his own between them. He moves against him slowly, without even actively deciding to, grinding them together the way his body tells him to, and they both sigh at the same time.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, and then he covers Tooru’s lips with his own again, stroking his tongue along the inside of his mouth, stealing his breath away, making him dizzy. He’s meeting the thrusts of Tooru’s hips in kind, and he can slowly feel him growing hard. The feeling goes straight to Tooru’s groin, and he thinks that Iwaizumi must be able to feel him too. Even through the fabric of their pants, it feels so good he doesn’t ever want this to stop.

When they break apart for air, Tooru shoots a little smile down at Iwaizumi, and the one he gets back in return is enough to make his stomach churn. Iwaizumi’s lips and ears are red, his cheeks flushed. He’s perfect.

Tooru dips down, but instead of his lips, he presses kisses to Iwaizumi’s neck, relishing the shiver passing over him in response. Iwaizumi’s hands find their way under Tooru’s shirt, stroking along his back and shoulders, nails prickling the skin as he sucks a little red mark beneath Iwaizumi’s collarbone.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi says, looking thoroughly undone. “You really sure about this? We can,” he swallows, “we can still stop.” His hips halt for a moment as he waits for Tooru’s answer.

“You have no idea,” Tooru says, “how much I want this.”

For a moment Iwaizumi regards him with dark, apprehensive eyes, but then he licks his lips and gives Tooru’s shoulder a squeeze. “Okay.”

When they resume kissing, it’s still slow, but it feels different, like the world’s going a million miles a minute but they’re frozen in the middle of it. There’s more pressure, more open want in the way Iwaizumi presses up against him, and when Tooru accidentally moans into it, Iwaizumi shudders, grip tightening around Tooru’s body. The couch creaks under their shared weight as they move together, making it all sound much more scandalous than it is, and it pulls a laugh from Tooru.

“What?” Iwaizumi mutters.

“Nothing,” Tooru giggles, dropping a kiss behind his ear, “I’m just happy we’re doing this.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes are soft when he opens them to look at Tooru, and it pulls at his heartstrings, makes him warm all over. It makes him want to look up at those eyes, feel Iwaizumi’s weight on top of him, warm and sure. He tells Iwaizumi, whispers to him with the sort of genuine confidence that rarely comes to him. And Iwaizumi, he somehow manages to flip them over without tumbling off the couch, holding Tooru tight. Tooru lands on his back with a soft thud, and his breath catches in his throat at the sight of his best friend hunched over him, hands on either side of Tooru’s head, hips aligned with his own.

“Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi’s eyelids flutter. “Say my name.”

Tooru's heart lurches. He’s always liked Iwaizumi’s given name, but he was never allowed to call him by it after primary school. The fact that he’s telling him to now…

“Hajime,” Tooru breathes, the name unfamiliar on his tongue. At the same time it’s arousing, seeing Iwaizumi react to it, lips parting, hips coming down to grind against him. “Like that?”

“Just like that,” Iwaizumi says. He drags his knee over the bulge in Tooru’s pants. “Fuck, I wanna feel you. This isn’t enough.”

He’s going to kill Tooru, with his words alone. He can’t answer quick enough, all that comes out is a muffled groan as he presses their lips together messily, hips jerking up in search of friction. Yeah. The pants need to go.

Tooru fingers his fly for longer than is logically acceptable before he finally gets it to open, hands shaking with anticipation. He can’t push his pants down more than a couple of centimeters, but it’ll do. Iwaizumi litters kisses and little bites along his jawline as he gets to work on his sweats, too. Iwaizumi separates from him for a blink, kicking them off altogether before settling back down. He kisses Tooru briefly, and there’s a taste of impatience to it. His finger hooks into the waistband of Tooru’s underwear.

“Can I?”

“Please,” Tooru moans, and it’s all the encouragement Iwaizumi needs. Tooru shivers as he reaches into his boxers and pulls his cock free, thumb stroking along the side of it. He’s so hard that every little touch is fire, and Iwaizumi exhales a moan at the sight of him, trailing a finger through the bead of precum at the tip and smearing it around.

“Look at you,” he mutters under his breath, fingers wrapping around him for a couple of experimental pumps. Tooru keens, arching his back off the couch. Iwaizumi handles him so well right off the bat, even though they’re both a little drunk and even though this is the first time they’ve ever done anything remotely like this. And still, Tooru isn’t surprised — Iwaizumi knows him like the back of his hand. Of course he’d know how to touch him, that he likes a slow build-up but a firm grip, and oh, he thinks, what if this is how he likes it, too?

The thought comes and goes. Iwaizumi’s hand unravels him slowly, and it’s so, so good. The way he strokes him, it’s almost the same as if Tooru were doing it to himself, except the sensation is much more intense. It makes his stomach dip and his toes curl and it stokes the fire in his gut that has been alight since their lips met for the first time.

“You too,” Tooru gasps, tugging clumsily at Iwaizumi’s boxer shorts, “wanna feel you.”

With a groan and a kiss that’s all teeth, Iwaizumi shoves his boxers down, and Tooru barely gets a glimpse of him before he _feels_ him, hot and leaking against his own erection. Iwaizumi fists his hand around them both and starts up a rhythm, and it’s intense enough to make Tooru moan and clutch at Iwaizumi’s shoulders for support. His hips twitch up into Iwaizumi’s hand, and each time he thrusts against him it sends pleasure to every part of his body. Tooru wraps his arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, their foreheads touching. His breath is coming fast and his vision swims around the edges; all that’s focused is Iwaizumi, touching him, kissing him, taking him higher at a frightening speed.

It all feels surreal, there’s a sort of sleepy comfort to it, which must be the alcohol’s doing. It’s late, but there’s no urgency behind any of it. It just is.

“Wait, wait,” Tooru gasps as he feels the upcoming beginning of something that is undeniably an orgasm, forcing himself to stop moving. “I want…” _More. So much more._

“I don’t have anything,” Iwaizumi says apologetically, looking just a little bit disappointed. He’s so cute, even when he’s sweaty and half naked.

“It’s fine, we can do other stuff,” Tooru says, unable to stop himself from smiling. “You’re gonna have to let me get up for this, though.”

Reluctantly, Iwaizumi gets up to let Tooru slide off the couch. Tooru takes a deep breath and pushes him back down so he’s sitting with his back against the backrest. Iwaizumi’s eyes widen when Tooru sinks to his knees in front of him, pulling his hips closer to the edge. He teases his fingers along the top of his thighs, feeling the firm muscles working underneath his skin. In this position there’s no use in trying not to stare, so he lets himself admire the shape of him, and he can only imagine how good it’ll feel to have him in his mouth.

Tooru casts his eyes up to look at Iwaizumi’s face. His pupils are blown, teeth digging into his lip, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. Seeing him so affected is the best reward Tooru could ask for.

“Let me blow you?”

Iwaizumi makes an unintelligible noise in the back of his throat. “Yeah. Yes. Okay.” He gives a nod, as if Tooru couldn’t understand without it. It makes him smile.

With a reassuring squeeze to his thigh, Tooru wraps his lips around Iwaizumi’s cock, feeling him hot and heavy on his tongue. Iwaizumi tenses and Tooru carefully sinks down a couple of centimeters, taking hold of the rest of him with his hand. It’s muscle memory that moves his body rather than expertise, as he begins hollowing his cheeks, going up and down, getting used to the feeling. He’s done this before, but it never mattered in quite the same way. His heart is pounding in his chest, throat tight with nervousness. This could be his only chance to do this with Iwaizumi, so he needs to do it right.

He sucks him in as deep as he can without triggering his gag reflex, tasting sweat and musk and that light bitterness that’s really just a foretaste. It’s not overwhelmingly good, but it’s Iwaizumi, and that makes it so much better. It’s addicting, the way Iwaizumi reacts to different movements of his tongue, sharply sucking in air as he traces one of the veins, hands curling into his hair as he drags his lips up and over the head.

“Ah, Tooru,” Iwaizumi gasps, “go slow. I can’t...”

Head spinning, Tooru complies. He tries to take his time, using his hand to keep his rhythm steady. A faint ache is beginning to build in his throat and jaw, but it’s bearable. Maybe it’s not even uncomfortable.

The last time he did this suddenly feels eons away. It feels, in some way, as if his life had slowly been building up to this one moment, and it’s frightening how right it feels to be doing this with Iwaizumi. Tooru’s eyes prickle, and whether it’s emotion or the strain he’s putting on his throat he doesn’t know, but he quickly blinks the wetness away.

Iwaizumi’s hands massage his scalp, and when he tugs on his hair a couple of times it’s so careful that it doesn’t even hurt. When Tooru dares to look up, Iwaizumi’s eyes are almost all the way closed, his lips parted. Their eyes meet and Iwaizumi’s hips stutter, almost choking him.

“‘M close, Tooru,” he whispers.

“Yeah?” Tooru asks around his mouthful of Iwaizumi, feeling him shudder. He pulls off, stroking his full length with his hand now, and he can’t help but curl his free hand around himself, biting out a moan at the long due relief. Iwaizumi opens his mouth on a shaky exhale, and for a moment Tooru thinks he’s going to come, but he doesn’t. Iwaizumi tugs at him instead, urging him to get up.

“Come here.”

Tooru swallows as he gets up, kicks off his pants and climbs onto Iwaizumi’s lap. For a moment, he doesn’t know where to put his hands. He wants them everywhere on Iwaizumi, but eventually they fall to his waist. “You … wanna come together?” he asks, surprised by the waver in his own voice. He meant it to be a joke, but it didn’t come out that way.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, and from the way he’s looking at him with fiery determination in his eyes, Tooru can tell he’s absolutely serious.

Tooru might have laughed if he weren’t so ridiculously in love with the idea, so in love with Iwaizumi. Instead, he draws him in close for a kiss, swiping his tongue along Iwaizumi’s bottom lip. He can feel Iwaizumi smiling into it, making his heart swell. It’s all too good to be true.

Iwaizumi nudges them together again, stroking them with his hand. Tooru rocks his hips into it, adding pressure. “Hajime, Hajime,” he moans, using the name to please Iwaizumi, but also because it’s exhilarating just to be saying it freely, pushing it right against Iwaizumi’s mouth.

“Don’t make it weird,” Iwaizumi chides, but he’s still kissing Tooru with a burning passion. He strokes them together quick and with a firm grip, using both hands to get more coverage. Feeling sticky, heated skin everywhere around him makes Tooru a little dizzy, but in a good way. Like riding a roller coaster that tips you upside down. Even though they don’t have lube, Iwaizumi’s hands slide easily enough up and down their shafts; both of them are wet with precum and spit and it’s mixing together all sloppily. And it should gross him out, just a little bit at least, but the thought turns Tooru on even more. He feels that sensation from before returning, a subtle sort of tickling and a tightening in his lower abdomen.

“Gonna come soon, Iwa-chan, so you— ah, better hurry up.”

Iwaizumi groans. “Hold on—”

Tooru tries. He really does, but Iwaizumi’s making it hard to hold back. He’s gone past the point of no return — there’s a split moment where he thinks he can maybe warn Iwaizumi, but just as he opens his mouth, his orgasm crashes over him. He gasps, shaking in Iwaizumi’s lap, and comes without a word, all over his shirt and Iwaizumi’s hands. Iwaizumi’s hands, who keep going, working him through it so perfectly. His vision blacks out completely as he loses himself in the pleasure, and it’s only Iwaizumi’s voice that brings him back.

“Fuck,” is all he manages, the movements of his hands getting sloppy. “Tooru, I told you—” He cuts himself off there, releasing Tooru to take hold of just himself, and it only takes him two more strokes until he, too, comes with a low moan. It all hits Tooru, his softening cock, his shirt, his neck. He just came, but the sight is so arousing it makes him twitch against his thigh. Iwaizumi shivers his way through the aftershocks, his breaths shallow and laced with inaudible panting. One of his hands finds Tooru’s and squeezes, and his head dips forward to rest against Tooru's collarbone.

“Holy shit,” he says eventually, face still hidden.

“Yeah,” Tooru agrees, hoping Iwaizumi meant that in a positive way. “Sorry I … you know, didn’t wait for you.” He laughs a little. “You made me feel really good.”

“I’m glad,” Iwaizumi begins as he lifts his head. His cheeks are still flushed a dark red. So cute.

Iwaizumi scratches at his neck. “I’m glad it felt good. I’m glad you talked me into this.”

“What? You kissed me first!”

Iwaizumi smiles. He almost looks shy this way, with his head tipped a little to the side. “Point taken.”

Their noses brush as Tooru presses their lips together again, and he’s so happy he could cry. Iwaizumi’s hands cup his face in them, his lips moving so sweetly against his. With a bit of imagination Tooru can see it, Iwaizumi liking him back. For a flash, he sees them a couple years down the road, settling into a new place of their own. One bedroom.

“I don’t want to leave,” he wants to say. But he stops himself, _don’t make it weird_ echoing in his ears. Instead he kisses Iwaizumi again, on the lips, and then the tip of his nose.

“I need a shower,” he says, because it's true. And how badly he wants to tack on a grin and ask Iwaizumi if he wants to share, but he reminds himself that this, what they did tonight, should be enough for him. _Don’t make it weird._

“Can I join?”

“What?” Tooru blinks.

But Iwaizumi’s already pulling away, the moment’s gone. He shakes his head, gently pushing Tooru off his lap. “It’s fine, forget it. It was just a joke.”

“No!” Tooru begs. “Please come with me, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t look all that convinced. “You sure?”

“Yes. Now come on, I’m getting all crusty.”

Tooru pulls Iwaizumi to his feet, trying his best not to let on how much he’s wanted this. The shower. Tonight. Him.

 

ღ

 

They take their shower. It’s a slow affair, because it’s a tight fit and they keep taking breaks to kiss. Iwaizumi initiates most of them, which makes Tooru nauseous almost, from the amount of butterflies wreaking havoc in his stomach. Part of the elation stems from the fact that they’ve both sobered up — they probably did a while back — and Iwaizumi has shown no hints of regret.

They help each other dry off, and if they end up kissing against the bathroom door in nothing but their towels, neither of them complains about it.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Tooru asks, feeling bold. “Please?”

Iwaizumi laughs. He laughed a lot tonight. “No need to beg. We’ve done it so many times I’m surprised you even ask anymore.”

“It’s because I’m polite,” Tooru says.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. “Sure you are.”

Ignoring Tooru’s half hearted protests, he pulls him down the hall to his room one last time.

 

ღ

 

Morning comes like the end of a beautiful dream. Tooru wakes to a strong arm slung around his middle and warm, regular puffs of breath against the back of his neck. Sunlight tickles his nose, a taunt of the softest variety, like he’s six again and the sun’s his older brother trying to coax him out of bed by attacking all his ticklish spots.

What a cruel world, he thinks, burrowing deeper into Iwaizumi’s embrace. The moving trucks will arrive soon and he and Iwaizumi will have to separate. He won’t even have enough time to come up with anything good to say before they part. “Thanks for the great handjob, and by the way, I’ve been in love with you since freshman year”? No thanks.

He hopes they’ll still talk on the phone at least, when things have smoothed over and last night has blurred into the endless string of memories shared between them. For Tooru it won’t, but for Iwaizumi it might.

It’ll be a lonely ride down to Kagoshima without Iwaizumi to keep him company. And now he’ll not only miss his laugh and his personality and everything he’s ever liked about him as a friend, but he’ll miss his touch, his lips on his, his hands in Tooru’s hair.

As if Iwaizumi had heard his thoughts, he begins stirring behind Tooru, nose brushing the back of his ear as he shifts and stretches. “Hey,” he says, voice gritty still. He’s never been an early riser.

“Hey,” Tooru says back. “Sleep well?”

“Better than I have in a long time.” Iwaizumi’s lips are on Tooru’s neck, dry and warm. Maybe he’s still dreaming after all.

“You flatterer,” Tooru laughs quietly, carefully turning the other way so he can look at Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi in the morning is a rare and beautiful sight. His hair’s all flattened and he’s got pillowmarks on his cheeks. The way he looks at Tooru is of a soft and sleepy quality, cozy and calm. Tooru can’t help himself. He brushes the back of his hand along his cheek. Iwaizumi catches his hand and holds it, their fingers twining together.

“Can last night not be a one time thing?” Tooru blurts out. There it is. He just said it. All in one go, like ripping off a bandaid. It should be painless, but inside, his stomach is turning with dread. He didn’t mean to say that.

“I thought that was the point.” Iwaizumi’s tone is careful. Careful, but not irritated. “Wasn’t that what you said? To commemorate?”

Tooru could hit himself. “You weren’t supposed to remember that! It wasn’t my brightest moment, okay? I just needed a way to get you…” He turns red. He can feel it. He’s losing his flirtation skills, and it’s all Iwaizumi’s fault.

“To get me to kiss you?” Iwaizumi finishes for him.

Tooru hides his face in Iwaizumi’s chest. He’s warm and smooth and he smells so good, like Tooru’s favorite soap.

“You never take the easy route, do you?” Iwaizumi says. He’s rubbing Tooru’s back in wide strokes, the way he knows Tooru likes. “You could’ve just asked me to. I’ll kiss you right now if you want.”

Tooru’s head snaps up. “Iwa-chan.”

The tip of Iwaizumi’s nose is pink, and Tooru is glad he’s at least a little bit nervous, too. It wouldn’t have been fair otherwise.

“Your morning breath is really bad,” he says, and it’s only half a joke. Maybe three quarters if he’s being generous.

“I’m guessing that’s a no, then.”

“I’m just stating the facts,” Tooru backpaddles, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t still want to kiss you. It’s just … in a bit, it’ll all be over. What do we do then?”

“I know you,” Iwaizumi says, easy confidence. “You never back down from a challenge. The miles between us would never stop you from crashing at my place every other weekend. Maybe I’ll even _invite_ you round sometime. If you behave.”

“Iwa-chan, be serious!” Tooru whines. And still, his heart is soaring. Iwaizumi sees a future where they’re still the same, a future for them that’ll not just be a sad copy of the four years they spent here. He’s picturing something new.

“How long?” Iwaizumi asks. Bandaids, Tooru thinks.

“What?”

“How long have you liked me?”

Tooru hesitates. “...A couple of years. Since the end of freshman year, I think. Why?”

“I’ve liked you since high school. I didn’t know back then,” he amends when Tooru opens his mouth to interrogate him, “but I’ve liked you at least as long as you’ve liked me. Isn’t that serious enough for you?”

Tooru feels like he’s about to start crying. “Why didn’t you ever say anything? The last four years, we could have…”

Iwaizumi squeezes his hand. “Well, why didn’t you?”

Tooru stays quiet. _I was scared. Of losing you as a friend. Of how intense this feeling of love was. How it still is. Of moving halfway across the country, away from you._

“Touché,” he offers weakly, but it seems to get his point across. Iwaizumi smiles like he knows exactly what Tooru was too afraid to say aloud, and he’s never loved him more than in that moment.

“Can I get that kiss now?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, laughing. “You’re so spoiled it’s disgusting.”

“You don’t mean that,” Tooru shoots back.

“No, I don’t,” Iwaizumi admits. He gives Tooru a long, lingering look, like he’s committing him to memory, and then, finally, he pulls him close and covers Tooru’s lips with his own.

There’s morning breath and dry lips and clumsy movements, but when it all comes together, it’s perfect.

 

ღ

  


They stand outside the building, moving trucks loaded up and ready to go. Tooru gets a last glance at the empty apartment, Iwaizumi standing close by, their arms touching.

In that empty apartment, they laughed and cried and despaired over schoolwork, they ate and slept and stayed awake, they fought and made up. In that empty apartment, they fell in love.

“Call me when you get to your new place,” Iwaizumi says.

“That sounds awfully like you _won’t_ check in on me three times before I even leave the prefecture.”

“I hate it when you’re right.”

Tooru wants to kiss him again. But he doesn’t. It wouldn’t be right. He wants to kiss him hello, not goodbye. So instead, he takes Iwaizumi’s hand in his. “I’ll call you. Promise.”

And he will. Because he refuses to let this be the end. It’s always been Oikawa-and-Iwaizumi. Number-1-and-4. A-and-Un. Tooru-and-Hajime.

And it always will be.

  
  


**_fin (ouverte)._ **

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! feel free to come hang out on twitter (@_lumielle) for more soft iwaoi content c':


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